The Longest Road
by Aria6
Summary: A bizarre story focusing on Axl and an accident that sends him on a trip around the universe. Rated for very dark themes, sex and violence.
1. Chapter 1

This is a really strange fic I just... had the urge to write. XD Updates will be long and infrequent.

Axl hissed, drawing himself up to his knees. What had happened? What was going on? And why did he hurt so much?

He seemed to remember an explosion, and a lot of shouting and screaming. The screaming had mostly been his own voice. Whatever had happened had hurt, hurt worse than anything in his admittedly short experience. Spikes of pain had knifed into his entire body and his eyes had burned horribly. He hadn't been able to see a thing.

Now, though… he frowned, ran a self-diagnostic and then he blinked at the results. He had suffered very strange, systematic damage. It seemed to go inside only an inch, though, so the worst damage had been on his limbs and face. It hadn't reached any vital systems. However, there was a system warning… he was low on water.

Water? Axl glanced around, realizing he was in a desert. A dry, desiccating wind blew the sand into huge dunes, and the sun had the force of an anvil. But Axl wasn't human, and one day in a desert shouldn't have dehydrated him. Theoretically, Reploids had closed systems and should not require water, but Axl had never heard of an absolutely closed system, so Reploids eventually needed to replenish the fluid content of various systems. Still, it should have taken days to reach this point. How long had he been unconscious?

To his dismay, the diagnostic informed him that he had been out almost a week. That was actually pretty impressive to still be functioning in this heat, but he hadn't been moving. Moving made any openings in the system worse. Still, he was parched. He needed water very badly. And another check on the diagnostic showed him that his teleporter was non-functional, and likely to stay that way. If he wanted water, he would have to find it himself.

Axl lurched to his feet, a wave of agony crashing over him. He gritted his teeth, locking his knees until the pain receded. Then he slowly started to walk, trying hard not to think about the odds of finding water in a sandy desert. If he failed to find it, he would not die. The coolant for his generator didn't involve water or oil, and it really was a closed system. But he would go into shutdown to protect his joints and internals when the liquids congealed to the point where nanites could no longer be pumped through his body. Alia would probably locate his locked up body eventually, but that would be humiliating as hell. He could already hear the jokes about sand sculptures.

When he saw the caravan, at first he thought it was a mirage. But mirages didn't make sound, and he could hear the rumbling of the wheels… he broke into a trot, heading towards it.

Mirages didn't spit, either. Axl stopped, shocked, as the nearest camel nailed him with unerring precision. While he needed water, that… wasn't the kind he wanted!

"Woah!" Someone called, and the caravan ground to a halt. Axl blinked as he spotted the long line of people chained to the final wagon. Were they captives? It seemed cruel to expose anyone to this kind of sun, and they seemed to be humans. Then he frowned doubtfully, eyeing the caravan. The covered wagons, pulled by camels, looked like they had stepped from a prior era. But then, with the Mavericks disrupting trade in remote areas, maybe it wasn't so odd. He heard someone speak, and quickly tuned into the local language… a dialect of Arabic. It wasn't quite like anything he'd heard before, but his systems made short work of the differences.

A human jumped down lightly from his perch on a camel, and Axl tried not to feel uneasy. It was difficult. The man was wearing strange, light armor of boiled leather. His skin was as weathered as the leather, crossed with scars, and his dark brown eyes were cool. He smiled, but the expression made him look more predatory than friendly. Axl smiled back anyway.

"Hello. I'm Axl, a Maverick Hunter, and I seem to be a little lost. Um, where am I?" A warning flashed up in his mind, courtesy of his diagnostic system. "And do you have any water?" The man gestured to a boy, who ran off to get some. If Axl had been more familiar with such things, he might have wondered why the man wasn't offering his own canteen. As it was, he didn't think about it.

"You are in the Mugala Desert." The man's voice was soft, but very rough. It made Axl think of someone who had been smoking for years, although the scars on his throat indicated another possible cause. The boy came back with a canteen. "Here. Drink this."

Axl took the canteen gratefully, and drank deeply. The water was slightly tangy from the leather, but his systems treated it like ambrosia. The warnings died down and-

Were replaced by a far more violent warning as the world whirled around him. His entire system was being affected by something, maybe it was a drug or maybe a virus he just couldn't tell… Collapsing to the ground, Axl was vaguely aware of the man above him speaking, then two people lifting him up carefully, by the shoulders and feet.

Then he blacked out, and awareness went away.

When he woke up again, it was to a seriously annoying rattling. Not to mention a million bumps, and each time the wagon bounced, he hit his head on the floor. There was straw, but it didn't really do a lot to cushion the impacts.

"Ow…" Axl sat up with a frown, rubbing his head, then blinked as he looked down at himself. He was out of his armor, and there were some odd metal bands around his wrists and ankles. Reaching up, he found a matching band at his throat. And there was someone else in the wagon with him.

"Hello." She said softly with a shy smile. A beautiful little girl, barely thirteen if Axl was any judge, she had long, silky black hair and large brown eyes. "My name is Shabha. What is yours?"

"Uh, I'm Axl," he replied, blushing lightly. The girl was dressed in a thin linen shift that left nothing to the imagination, and he was painfully aware that she was well into her change from child to woman. She was still very childish, but things were definitely sprouting. "Um…" She smiled sweetly at him, as if she understood his discomfort.

"I'm so glad they put you in with me. They must have decided we're both to young to… play." Her smile was positively wicked as he blushed more darkly. "I've been so lonely here, for so many weeks." She raised a hand to brush back her hair, and Axl noticed metal bands identical to the ones he was wearing.

"Please, can you help me? Who are these people? What's going on? What did they give to me in that water?" Axl asked urgently. "Uh, if you know." He added belatedly, realizing that a girl trapped in a wagon might not know a lot. She shrugged, making things move in intriguing ways beneath her shift, and Axl looked away.

"This is a slave caravan, run by the merchant lord Absnaka. We will be taken to Antarkos the Fair to be trained, then sold. I don't know about the water… how did you get here?" Shabha listened to his quick description of the explosion and subsequent appearance in the desert sympathetically. "Some terrible, malign magic must have brought you here. Oh, but you were lucky this caravan found you! Most would not have stopped to spit upon you, and left you to die alone. It is really much better being a slave than being dead. There was probably a sleeping potion in the water." Axl almost laughed. Magic? The girl had some truly bizarre notions.

"How did you end up here?" he asked, curious. The girl shrugged again, then sighed.

"My father was a rich merchant, but my mother died birthing me. Papa never had much time for my brother and me after that, so my brother became fond of drink and dice. Papa was a bit stupid about my brother, and said I didn't need a trade since he would take care of me. So my papa died a year ago, and my brother ruined the business in less than a year. When all the money was gone, he bet me at dice, and lost," she said. "And so I am here." Axl stared at her in horror.

"Your brother lost your freedom at dice?" It was a ghastly thought. What kind of brother would do such a thing? But Shabha nodded calmly.

"He was very stupid. He should have sold me, not gambled. I am worth ten gold pieces even now," she said, tossing back her hair. "When I am trained as a concubine I will be worth fifty. Very stupid."

"You WANT to be a slave concubine?" Axl said carefully. He'd never imagined anyone having this kind of attitude. She was taking her slavery completely for granted… she grimaced, then shrugged.

"I would rather be a pampered merchant's wife, or a craftswoman, but that cannot be. So I will be a concubine, and I will get paid one silver a week for many weeks. If I save and save and save, when I am old I will buy my freedom. My money will be a dower and I will find a husband. Maybe, if I am lucky, a rich merchant will marry me when I am young and beautiful. Slave girls cannot marry noblemen, but merchants may marry whoever they please." She reached down, and picked up a ceramic plate. "Would you like something to eat?" Axl was suddenly acutely aware of how long it had been since he'd had a meal. That was another thing his internal diagnostics were complaining about.

"Thank you," he said as he took the plate, then looked the food over. There was bread, cheese, a hunk of roasted meet and a tiny slice of lemon.

"Make sure to eat the lemon, or you will get sick," she advised him, and Axl blinked. Why would…? Oh, vitamin C.

"No, I won't… I'm a Reploid." He wasn't sure how she could have failed to notice that, but she seemed to have. He bit into the meat as she looked puzzled.

"What is a Rep-loid?" She asked, confused. Axl blinked, chewing and swallowing his mouthful. The meat tasted odd, something he'd never had before.

"You know, we were all made from X's pattern… um, what is this?" He said dubiously, pointing at the meat.

"Roasted camel. One of them broke a leg, and waste not, want not." Axl froze for a moment, looking at it… then took another bite. It was actually not that bad. "Who is X?"

"Mrrph?" Axl blinked, then swallowed. Who could not know about X? "The guy who saved the world from Sigma? Maverick Hunter extraordinaire?" Shabha shrugged.

"I do not know what a Reploid or Maverick Hunter is. I think Sigma is a constant in math, no?" Axl swallowed hard, this time with no food in his mouth. How could anyone not know about Sigma?

And her whole attitude was… alien. Even in the poorest, most desolate countries of the modern world, slavery was not taken for granted the way she seemed to take it for granted. And slaves weren't guaranteed a silver… silver?… a week, either. Everything she said hinted at a culture that was almost completely alien to modern Earth. And if she hadn't heard of Sigma…

"Where am I?" Axl whispered, his appetite gone. For a moment, he seriously considered whether or not the explosion could have killed him. Could this be the afterlife? It seemed terribly real and painful for life after death, though. Could he somehow have been teleported here, to… to what? What was here?

"Where am I…"

Later that day, Axl got his first experience with how slaves were kept in line. It was not an enjoyable lesson.

After his talk with Shabha, Axl had finally decided it didn't really matter where he was. Life after death, a hallucination, alternate reality or something weirder, it didn't really matter. What mattered was not being a slave. Maybe Shabha would passively accept the indignity of being bought and sold, but he wasn't about to!

Of course, to some extent, Reploids had always been bought and sold. At first, they had been treated just like real robots… as property. That hadn't worked since Reploids were also intelligent and free spirited. Eventually, through negotiations and accrued legislation, a more companionable relationship had emerged. Reploids cost money to make and they couldn't expect humans to make them without getting something out of it. Heck, they could hardly expect other Reploids to make new Reploids without getting something out of it! So typically, new Reploids were "sold" to the company that had commissioned them. That company was responsible for their upkeep – apartment, food, etc - for a set amount of time, but paid them no real wages. When that time period was over, the company was obligated to pay full wages but no longer had to arrange upkeep. That was up to the young Reploid, who should have learned how to take care of himself by then. And if the youngster chose, he could leave to pursue other dreams.

The result tended to work pretty well. Most Reploids were willing to put in enough time to cover their cost, and a lot stayed with the job they had been designed for. The fact that they had to be paid full wages when the initial contract ran out made the humans happy, since it meant they weren't losing their jobs left and right to cheaper Reploid labor. And all of that explained why real robots, like Mets, were still being used. They might be stupid but you didn't have to pay them.

Axl had never experienced any of it, since Red had found him in an abandoned building. But the arrangement seemed fair enough to him. Especially since there was an out, if the situation they were placed into was intolerable. Any Reploid could apply to the military or the Hunters, and if they were accepted, they would square accounts with the parent company. It wasn't a really good reason to go and fight, but it was an escape.

But this was something else. When a man unlocked the door to their wagon and stepped inside to take the empty plate, Axl tensed. He'd knock the man out, take his keys and-

Just before he leapt, spikes of pure agony hit him. He collapsed into the straw, twitching, too breathless to scream. The main spike was in his neck, and warnings of network disruption flashed through his mind. The result was complete paralysis below the neck, and he could only watch and suffer as the man left the wagon.

Once he was gone, the pain slowly eased. He forced himself to his hands and knees, and saw Shabha watching him.

"You were going to attack him, weren't you?" She said, her voice hard, as she stared at him. Axl winced, raising a hand to his neck, and nodded. "Stupid!" She shook a finger at him, managing to not look ridiculous despite her age. "The collar of obedience will hurt you every time you disobey or act against them. And it punishes you by what you know is wrong, so you cannot evade it. Do not do that again!" Her expression suddenly turned haunted. "If they think you are difficult and unfit to be a slave, they may activate the collar and leave you… it takes days to die of the pain." Axl shuddered at that horrible image. It was worse because he knew she was right. That kind of disruption to his neural system would kill him eventually, but it would take a very long time. "Axl, you must learn to obey!"

Despite his anger, Axl had a sick feeling that she was right.

A few days later…

Axl contemplated some very pleasing, violent images as he carried a plate of food over to the campfire. The bands gave him twinges of pain, a foreshadowing of what would happen if he dared try to make his fantasies reality. He thought the pain was worth it.

Over the weeks of travel, he'd developed a deep hatred for the slavers. Not for his own sake, but for the sake of the people chained behind the last wagon. Shabha had explained things to him the first time he'd been called to serve food at the evening campfire.

_"We are not to be touched, you and I. Nor any of the other slaves in the wagons. We are young, or beautiful, or skillful… something that makes us valuable. The other slaves are not valuable."_

_"Why are you telling me this?"_

_"Because… Axl, slavers are cruel or they would not be slavers. I do not mind being a slave because I am young and beautiful and I would have starved with my brother, but there is so much misery here. The woman at the back, they are old, or ugly and will be sold as drabs for coppers. There is no reason for them to reach the city… undamaged. Do not act despite anything you might see."_

That had turned out to be very good advice. Axl's lips tightened as he heard a muffled sound of pain from one of the tents. He knew it wasn't right to be fantasizing about killing humans, but he doubted anyone would have blamed him under the circumstances.

He delivered the plates, then went to help some of the other slaves tend the camels. He was uncomfortably aware of someone watching him leave. He had been provided with linen shifts similar to the one Shabha wore, and in the wicked heat, he had given up on modesty and put them on. It was very comfortable, but when he served at night, he was conscious of how exposed his body was. Fortunately, Shabha had been right about no one daring to touch him. According to her, the slave pens at the city were not nearly as vile as this little caravan, but they would use any damage as an excuse not to pay full price.

A chill wind blew through his hair as he walked over the sand, and he sighed in pleasure. He loved night in the desert. The heat of the day was punishing and the wagon was stifling, but at night, he could enjoy the icy air. He hadn't known how cold a desert could get at night.

A camel whuffled at him as soon as he reached it, and he grimaced as he realized this particular bunch hadn't been fed. He was tempted to just leave them and let whoever was neglecting his job get punished, but that would be unfair to the poor camels. He went over to the wagon with the animal feed, and started to pull out some bails. He also gave the camels water, but sparingly. What they had left needed to last until the caravan reached the next oasis. Axl sighed, and patted one of the camels on the nose. It snorted, splattering his hand with snot, to his disgust.

"You are a lot of disgusting, filthy animals," he told the indifferent camels. "Stupid, too." Sighing, he sat down beside a wagon, and looked up at the stars. "Damn. I'm actually eager to get to that stupid city."

Anything to get away from the filthy slave caravan.


	2. Chapter 2

Axl blinked as he peeked out of the wagon. Shabha was right beside him, poking her head out under his. They had finally reached the city, and she was enthralled. She'd never seen a big city before.

Axl wasn't nearly as impressed. The city wasn't large by modern standards. For a place with no modern technology at all, though, it was fairly impressive. The buildings were made of dun colored stone, but many had been painted with beautiful murals. Flowerboxes were very common, usually framing doorways and full of blooming flowers and vines. As Axl watched, a man carefully watered his box.

As the caravan rattled past the residential area, the streets became more crowded. Axl watched and listened, interested, as merchants loudly hawked their wares and bargained just as loudly. Most of the merchants operated from under striped awnings, with little tables set up beneath the shade. The items being sold were diverse and often exotic. Axl could see scarves, spices, weapons…

Axl's lips compressed as they reached a large complex of buildings. He didn't need anyone to tell him this was the slave pens and auction house… the people coming and going in chains and collars told him all he needed to know.

When the caravan master gave his order, Axl swung himself out of the wagon. He was in his full armor again, given back to make him more interesting to the slave buyers. Fortunately… or unfortunately… the metal bands that ensured his obedience were flat enough to fit neatly beneath it.

Axl had tried everything he could think of to remove them, but nothing had worked. No matter how quickly he moved, he couldn't tear the bands away before the pain hit him. He'd finally been forced to conclude the bands activated on his own intent… that explained why they sent twinges of pain through him when he envisioned violent acts against his "masters." And there was no way he could outrun his own mind. He'd even tried meditating in the hopes he could act without alerting the bands, but he'd never paid attention to X's meditation lessons. It quickly turned out to be hopeless.

The common slaves were escorted off to the main slave pens, and Axl winced at the smell of unwashed flesh and human misery. The "special" slaves, like himself, were taken to a much smaller complex. Axl and Shabha were parted then… Axl was taken off with several well-muscled slaves who looked like warriors, and Shabha was taken with the pretty girls. He waved a quick goodbye, and she smiled at him. He wondered if they would ever see each other again.

Axl looked around at the room he'd been ushered into, and stared at one of the walls. Weapons were arrayed on it, more primitive weapons than he'd ever dreamed existed. He couldn't name all of them, but he tried, and examined the ones he couldn't name. One in particular caught his eye… it looked like a bastardized cross between a broadsword and a scythe. He could picture Sigma using it to neatly lop off heads. It was that sort of weapon.

The weapons made him wish for his guns, but that could not be. When the slavers had questioned him about his guns and armor, he'd discovered the guns had been destroyed by whatever phenomenon had brought him here. They still looked intact, but their circuits were fried, and unlike himself, they had no auto-repair function. He still had them on him, but right now they were nothing but dead weight. Still, he did know how to use a sword. Zero had given him some instruction on that, and it would probably be useful here and now.

A tall, very blond woman in dark leather armor stepped into the room. She was wearing a slave collar, but seemed oblivious to it, looking them over with authority. Her body was very well-muscled, and she looked hard and tough enough to take on wild bears. She reminded Axl a little of Zero… her very presence demanded attention in much the same way the red hunter could manage.

She looked them all over, pausing on Axl with a frown. "What kind of gear is that?" She demanded, stepping up close to him to examine his armor.

"Um… it's titanium alloy armor. I was made with it." Axl glanced at the weapons on the wall. "I doubt any of those could penetrate it." The woman's eyes narrowed.

"Magical armor, then," she said. Axl shrugged… by her definitions, that was probably right. "Don't depend on it, kid. There are magical weapons." Axl almost said something, then stopped. If the collar could control him by somehow reacting to his intentions, perhaps magical weapons could hurt him. He probably shouldn't test it. "I take it that stuff is fitted to you?"

"Yes," Axl said, slightly confused. "I think so, I mean, it wouldn't fit someone else."

"Explains why you still have it… alright! I want you meatheads to show me what you've got." She turned to Axl, starting with him. "What weapons do you use?"

"My guns, but they don't work anymore. Other than that, a sword," he answered. She nodded shortly, and went on to the next man in line.

Axl quickly found out that one of his companions had no special weapon skills. Of the other two, one was familiar with an axe and the other could handle a scimitar and a crossbow. The woman's lips tightened, then she sighed.

"Alright. My name's Charmain, and I have the pleasure of being your trainer for the next six months. How well you do will dictate how much money we can make on selling you… and what kind of placements you'll get." Her voice hardened. "So if you like the idea of being fodder in the arena, feel free to slack off."

"Ma'am?" One of the slaves asked tentatively. She nodded, giving him permission to speak. "Other than that, what other positions could we be sold into?"

"Bodyguard," She rattled off quickly. "House guard, caravan guard, city guardsman, army private. And if you get bought by the army, they free anyone who reaches Lieutenant." Axl blinked, perking up slightly. But… climbing the ranks wasn't something he was really good at. And it would take a long time. "Here. Look through these weapons and take whatever tickles your fancy." Axl walked over to the swords, looking them over. He finally picked one that was approximately the same length as the beam saber Zero had drilled him with.

Charmain drilled each one of them, and Axl discovered, painfully, that a beam saber was very different from a real sword. A beam saber had a lot of flex to it where a real sword didn't. After several minutes of abortive drill, Charmain had Axl try a flail. He was a bit dubious at first… the length of wood, with the black iron chain and spiked ball, seemed like something out of the middle ages. But it worked a lot better; giving him the flex he was used to with about the same length as the sword.

Charmain called a halt to their drill, then gave him a quick assessment. "You're quick, agile, and strong and you have a lot of native talent. Your weapon skills are about nil, though." Axl blushed, but even with the flail he hadn't done too well. He'd always concentrated more on his guns. "That's not really a bad thing, since you don't have crap to unlearn. What weapons do you want to concentrate on? Pick three to start with, with one ranged. If you can master more than that, dandy, but that's for later." Axl hesitated, glancing down at his flail.

"I'd like to learn the flail, sword and throwing knives." He said. "And knife fighting, if there's time." Charmain nodded, and gestured to one of her assistants, who went to pick out the appropriate weapons.

"The flail isn't that commonly used, and you can hardly ever find magical ones," she said. "Swords are just the opposite. That should work well." Axl accepted a bandolier of throwing knives, and Charmain helped him fix it over his armor. The sword was picked out and put to the side, but he was allowed to keep the flail, along with a belt with a loop it was designed to hang from. Axl expected to feel a little silly, using weapons from the dark ages, but surprisingly he didn't. If anything, he felt… dangerous. Axl grinned at the thought, touching one of the throwing knives.

He had weapons again. It was a step up in the world.

* * *

The next morning…

Axl yawned, stretching until his back popped. The beds in the barracks had been well worn by countless other fighter slaves, and Axl wasn't used to being surrounded by snoring humans. Well, not all of them had snored. Some had nose whistles. And some probably made no sound at all, but Axl could hardly tell over the general bedlam.

He'd finally slept, though, and ended up feeling refreshed in spite of himself. Axl went over to the cooks to get a tray of food, and then found a place in the mess hall. He was wearing the same thin linen shift the slavers had provided him with, but it seemed to be common garb for all the slaves.

He regarded the food dubiously. There was a large bowl of some kind of nutty porridge, a small bowl of yoghurt, a hard-boiled egg and a slice of melon. He finally shrugged, and started to eat. The porridge was tasteless, but mixing yoghurt into it helped.

There was very little conversation at the breakfast table. Most of the other slaves were still half-asleep, rudely awakened at the crack of dawn. Axl was used to waking up quickly in odd circumstances, so that part didn't really bother him.

Soon, he finished, and jumped up as Charmain beckoned to him. He had asked her for new jumpsuits, or something comparable, to wear under his armor. He still had the original one but he usually cycled through several of them and had to replace them at least once a year. His current one wouldn't last long.

"Try these on," she said, thrusting an armful of clothing at him. Axl took it, blinking at the black padded leather. "Follow me." She led him to a smaller room, and watched as he changed. Axl was a little uncomfortable with that, but not too much… Charmain was his teacher, but she was a slave too. He didn't have to obey her.

Axl looked down at himself, and grinned. "Do I look as good as I think?" The new jumpsuits were padded in all the right places, like his old one. He glanced back at Charmain, and was surprised to see a rather sad smile on her face.

"You look wonderful," she agreed. "Now, go get your armor. You have a long day ahead of you."

That set his routine for the next month. Every morning, at the crack of dawn, he began his practice. Axl discovered that he was a natural marksman with any ranged weapon, not just his guns. Once he mastered the basics, his daggers went where he wanted, and so did arrows and quarrels. His skill with the flail also progressed, but to his dismay, he found he didn't really like using a sword. The lack of any flex was really annoying. He finally ended up concentrating on the flail and knife work, although Charmain also introduced him to the bullwhip. Axl loved the intimidation factor, especially when Charmain taught him how to scalp a man with it and catch the scalp on the fly. It wasn't really a weapon for serious, close combat, but the psychological factor was useful. And it could be coiled on his left hip, while the flail was on the right. He also learned how to use a shield, which was especially important in close combat.

Sometimes, Axl felt like a walking armory. Charmain seemed to be taking a special interest in him, and had rigged up some interesting holders for his knives. Some were meant to go under normal clothes, and Axl wondered what he'd be using them for. He would be in his armor most of the time, wouldn't he?

As it turned out, he was wrong about that. At the end of the month, he joined a special class. Charmain was standing at the front of the room, blank faced, and beside her was a handsome man. Axl blushed, rather interested… he was bisexual, and knew it, but rarely found other men instantly attractive. This one was an exception. Axl found his well-chiseled features and wiry muscles very interesting. His skin was dark, deeply tanned, and his hair was jet black, long and braided with beads. His clothing was a white silk robe, edged with gold braid, and he gave them a professional smile.

The rest of the class was a bit odd. Axl glanced around, and saw they were all the younger, less scarred fighters. In fact, they were all quite attractive, himself included. Axl hesitated, suddenly wondering what was going on. Then Charmain spoke.

"You have all been chosen for this special training class," she said briskly. "You have no choice, so resign yourselves to it. Here you'll be learning how to be concubines as well as warriors." There was a sudden spat of whispers at that revelation, and Axl stiffened in shock. He was going to learn WHAT? "Now, what are your sexual preferences? Be honest with me." She pointed at a redheaded girl first. A nearby clerk was posed to record the answer.

"Uh… men." The girl muttered with a fiery blush. Charmain nodded, then moved on to a handsome young man. Axl braced himself for his own turn.

"Both." He managed to say calmly as she asked him. Almost half the room had admitted to some degree of bisexuality, so he at least wasn't alone in that. But he was going to learn WHAT?

The thought was frightening and oddly attractive. He was still a virgin, and would love to change that. But this wasn't quite how he had envisioned it.

"Now, Tasheen here will tell you about what concubine training is like." Charmain stepped back, and the other man took over.

"I'm sure you've all heard stories about concubine training," he said, then smiled sourly. "They are half true. You'll be learning all five hundred possible positions and techniques of pleasure." Axl tried to imagine that, and failed. He believed it… he'd stolen Zero's copy of the Kama Sutra once, and managed to leaf through it before the red hunter had threatened to use his head as a softball… but five hundred? What did you do? And how much of it was really fun? "Although you might be relieved to know that most owners are creatures of habit. But the main part of your training will be in your table manners, makeup, dancing, playing instruments… even the way you walk." Axl blinked, and there were puzzled murmurs from the others. What was wrong with how they walked? "It's my duty to make sure that you will all look like gilded lilies. And that is where most of you will fail. Yes?" He pointed to one girl, who had raised a hand to ask a question.

"Sir… ah… how much will we be paid?" she asked tentatively. A slave was paid per week according to a strict caste structure within the slave trade. A menial slave was paid one copper a week, although that rule was sometimes disregarded. A semi-skilled slave was usually paid five coppers a week. That classification included trades like mason, tanner, and inferior musicians. A skilled slave earned a silver a week. That classification included concubines, warriors, musicians, scholars and skilled tradesmen. A very skilled slave was paid five silvers a week. That classification could include masterful sculptors, musicians, and strange specialties. All castes were entitled to free food and lodging, as well. Axl had wondered why people would buy slaves instead of just hiring someone, but apparently, slaves were cheaper and less likely to have other loyalties. They were also signs of status, like a brand new car would have been in his own world.

"Five silvers." Axl nodded, unsurprised. This kind of duel specialty had to mean they would all be sold for top dollar. "Are there any more questions? Besides the burning one about what exactly are the five hundred positions?" There was a titter through the audience, and Axl blushed. But he was glad to know he wasn't the only one wondering. "Well, I'll answer the burning question." He gestured to a clerk, who wheeled out a dolly loaded with thick books. Axl blushed brightly as he realized what they had to be. He was getting his own copy of this world's version of the Kama Sutra. "Your task for tonight is to read this over, look at the pictures, and try to memorize everything. Line up to take a book." They obediently fell into line, and Axl took a book with the others, still trying to wrap his mind around this whole concept.

He was going to learn WHAT?


	3. Chapter 3

Axl fenced agilely, leaping back over the axe with a grin. He was practicing against one of the other warriors, a beautiful girl with raven black hair and the most well developed set of pectorals he'd ever seen in his life. She wore a special corset and armor just to keep everything from jiggling too much as she fought, and after the well-known 'tit caught in a bowstring' incident, she'd switched over to a crossbow.

She swore as he jumped to the side again, trying to pin him down so she could use her strength and the massiveness of her weapon to her advantage. It was padded, but still big enough to break bones from the sheer weight. Axl darted in, slamming her with his flail, but he'd gotten a little overconfident. He'd forgotten she could briefly handle her weapon one handed, and her fist hit him on the chin, putting stars in his eyes. They circled each other, looking for an opening-

"Enough!" They both lowered their weapons at Charmain's shout. "Break off for lunch!" Axl blinked, realizing that it was indeed about that time. The girl lowered her axe with a groan.

"Axl, you're a total bastard." She said wearily, slowly going over to the wall to hang her weapon back up. She usually used a much smaller machete that could be concealed in a flowing skirt.

"I know, thanks." Axl said brightly, hanging up his flail. Since he'd been picked to be a courtesan as well as a warrior, his main weapons had become knives. He was still being heavily trained with the flail, for when he would need to act as a warrior, but knives could be hidden under any kind of clothes.

Axl blushed faintly as he remembered his first… intimate experience.

"Axl? Try to calm down," the blonde woman, Ellasheen, said with a throaty laugh. She was a former courtesan, well past her prime. She was still beautiful, in a very mature way, but youth was long gone. She had two teenage children, he knew, both of them free. She had spent her money to buy their freedom when they were young, at the price of her own. "I don't bite, you know."

_But she didn't seem to mind her lack of freedom. Her position at the training center was very secure… and somewhat enjoyable. Axl blushed, shifting nervously as she smiled kindly at him, a twinkle in her eyes. He slowly sat down beside her, still blushing._

_Being here, doing this, made him feel nervous, afraid and a little sad. He'd vaguely hoped that Cinnamon would be his first… or maybe Zero. He wasn't sure if the red Hunter swung that way. He certainly liked ladies, but then, so did Axl…_

_A hand touched his shoulder, and Axl gasped, startled. Ellasheen laughed softly, and stood. He blinked at her, wondering what she was doing. She was wearing a filmy nightgown, cut to be revealing yet modestly covering, trimmed with delicate lace. Axl, on the other hand, was wearing only his familiar linen shift. She pushed him gently, smiling, and Axl found himself lying down on his stomach on the bed. The position was very puzzling. What could she possibly…? _

Her hands skillfully started kneading his shoulders, and Axl sighed softly, relaxing. He'd been given massages before, and given them to others. Usually for Red, who had suffered some pain in his right shoulder from an old injury. Reploids had a fake musculature overlaid over metal, so massages served no real purpose, but reacting with pleasure to the stimulation was part of their programming. A lot like sex.

_That thought made Axl tense briefly, but then the massage relaxed him again. Ellasheen was really very good at it. Axl knew it was a standard part of concubine training, but still…_

_Eventually, when he was half-asleep, she gently kissed throat. Axl turned over to look at her, surprised, and their lips had met. He was still half-asleep, and the kiss was so very pleasant…_

_She had taught him from there, and it had been a wonderful lesson to learn._

Someone poked Axl in the back, and he broke off his reverie with a blush. Then blushed even more as he realized he had reacted physically to the memory, and was very grateful he was wearing leather training armor, not the thin linen he wore in the morning. If anyone had been able to see, he'd have gotten some serious teasing.

"Come on, Axl, don't just stand there dreaming." The girl said briskly. She had already removed her armor. "Take it off." Axl winced, and concentrated briefly on getting himself under control. It wasn't hard. He just had to think of the time he'd accidentally run in on Red naked. Not that Red was bad looking, but seeing his 'father' that way had been scarring. So had the helmet Red had beaned him with. He started stripping off his armor and putting it back on the racks, after giving it a quick cleaning. He didn't sweat like the humans did, but it was the polite thing to do. They had started practicing with enchanted weapons a while ago, to give them a feel for them, and after the first serious dent to his real armor he'd taken to wearing the practice leathers. They were somehow tuned to the weapons, so they suffered no real damage.

His companion did a few knee bends, and some stretches to keep from stiffening, then started out to the mess hall. The other concubine/warriors were already there. Since they had been selected from the others, they no longer shared lessons with them and tended to associate with each other. Some of the other warriors had called them snots, but Axl thought it was just the natural result of no longer seeing the other warriors every day.

"Hey, Magira," One of the other boys, an auburn haired man of perhaps twenty, passed down a pastry. It went through four changes of hands before it ended up in front of the black haired girl, who immediately nibbled on it. Axl concentrated on filling up a plate, then finding a seat. He was pleased to see that today's main dish was chickpea curry with yogurt, over rice. The curry was always spicy enough to burn his mouth, but cut with yogurt, it was delicious. He took care to take a salad as well. He didn't much care for them, but he'd decided a long time ago that there was no point in explaining that he didn't need it. Either they wouldn't believe him, which would be annoying, or maybe they would believe him, which could be worse. How would knowing that he was ageless affect his value? If he wanted to buy his freedom someday, it would be wise not to tell anyone.

He'd come to the conclusion that for expensive slaves like himself, slavery was more in the nature of indentured servitude than what he would have called slavery. Yes, they could be abused on their master's whim, but they would be expensive property. And they had the right… not a possibility, a right… to purchase their freedom, if they could make the price they were sold for. It was not possible for a master to refuse, if they could give him the coins. And as they grew older, less comely and feebler, that price would lower.

His eyes hardened, though, as he thought about the fates of the cheap slaves. Bought for cheap farm labor, the salt mines, and other unpleasant tasks, most would be worked to death. No one cared about them. They had no right to purchase themselves. Most were prison scum, but many were simply serfs from other countries, prisoners of war or victims of raiders. Axl knew he wasn't the only one disgusted by it. Charmain could give chapter and verse on the evils of this decadent society, if you cared to ask. She was from the far North, and claimed her people were really far more civilized even if they did engage in blood feuds and her enemies had sold her into slavery. Axl had wanted to ask how they were different, exactly, but hadn't quite dared.

He idly listened to the conversation around him, and wondered what the other warriors would have thought if they'd bothered to listen in. Maybe they would have been grateful they were no longer sitting together. The conversation was a hodge-podge of topics, but mostly focused on combat, and their lessons with various sexes and positions. Along with a great deal of bitching about…

"I swear, I hate all this table manners stuff." A blonde, buff young man complained. Physically, he reminded Axl of Zero although there was no resemblance mentally. "I'm a warrior. I should be hacking my meat off with a knife and eating it raw!" There were sniggers up and down the table.

"I seem to recall you peeling grapes and feeding them to Ellasheen last week," One of the others said dryly. "And you looked like you were enjoying it." He flushed brick red and mumbled something as Axl and the others laughed.

"The posture lessons are what drive me mad," One of the women, a platinum haired beauty, said. "They tied a string between my legs last week, to make me shorten my steps." Axl and the other men looked sympathetic, while the women grimaced. Female concubines needed a 'feminine' walk. The men were fortunately spared that.

Tasheen had been right about the etiquette lessons being their bane. It had taken what seemed like forever for Axl to master the complicated dance of cutlery that dining seemed to require. He was sure there was nothing like it in the modern world. Although… once the teachers thought they were ready, they had instructed the kitchen to prepare a full court feast as a supper for them to practice on. Axl had been oddly impressed by the stateliness of it. There had been eight courses, each small enough that they had been satisfied but not sick by the end of it. Each one had come with a drink that complimented it… sometimes wine, sometimes tea, and once a fresh mineral water. The courses had included seared beef strips with five dipping sauces, lamb curry, acorn soup, baked fish in cheese… it was obvious that this society had made an art of eating, at least at the highest levels.

They had lost about half the class to all the etiquette lessons. They had returned to being ordinary warriors, with reactions ranging from angry to grateful. Axl had considered deliberately failing, but had finally decided not to. He would cost twice as much, which would make it harder to buy his freedom, but he'd be making five times as much. The economics were clear.

"What I'm having trouble with is the whole not looking dangerous thing," one of them, a lean, dark haired man complained. "I am dangerous! It's hard not to look it." Axl grinned as the other men nodded, and the one speaking glared at him. "Don't you dare say anything, Axl." Axl widened his eyes, pretending to innocence, and one of the girls giggled. He almost hadn't needed any lessons in 'not looking dangerous.' He just remembered how he used to get his way with Red, before everything had gone to hell. Being irresistibly cute was one of the best ways he'd found to get what he wanted. Only one or two of the other men could use that tactic without looking ridiculous. The rest were left to fumble along, trying to look like useless fops and beefcakes instead of the trained fighters they were.

"I'm almost looking forward to when we get sold," One of the girls said, spooning yogurt over her curry. "It should be interesting, seeing the feasts and festivals. Especially with a knife strapped to my leg!" She grinned, and the others laughed softly. Traditionally, no one could bring a bodyguard to a feast. That was the main purpose of courtesan/warriors such as themselves… to circumvent that tradition.

"I wonder if we'll ever have to do assassinations?" Axl suddenly asked, silencing the conversation for a moment.

"Surely not," a girl said, but without assurance. "Wouldn't they have other people for that?" Axl shrugged.

"I don't know, but we can be taken where bodyguards can't." That would get them past a lot of defenses. After his experience with Red Alert, Axl wouldn't have been the least bit surprised if careful assassinations were part of his duties. The others looked faintly disturbed at the thought.

"Well, we'll have to see." The raven-haired beauty said with a sigh, hiking up her corset. "What I wouldn't give to be back home again." There was nothing anyone could say to that, and the conversation turned to other things.

* * *

A month later, Axl idly twirled his flail, waiting for his time on the stage to come. He tried to concentrate on the whirling movements of the steel ball, and not the coming humiliation.

This was a private auction, reserved for the richest of clients, not the rabble off the streets. It was still a sale, and not the genteel kind of arrangements for purchase he was used to as a Reploid. They would be poked, prodded and spoken of as objects. Well, maybe not poked and prodded, but they would be called upon to demonstrate their skills in mock battles and also be required to model themselves in various garbs. Axl really wasn't looking forward to hearing the comments about him.

The raven-haired girl, Magira, exited the stage, and Axl winced as he saw her. She was wearing an umber gown that accented her incredibly lush bosom, but her expression was furious.

"Someone called me a great cow!" She hissed viciously at him, and Axl sensibly didn't reply as she flounced off to the change room.

They would all be displaying themselves for several hours. Then, once all the displays were done, they would line up on the stage and the bidding would begin. Axl took a deep breath, and stepped out onto the stage. He was paired off to show his skills against the blonde man, who had finally learned how to simulate being beefcake adequately. In his case, that amounted to looking stupid. Axl ignored the announcer introducing him, but couldn't help but hear some of the comments.

"…Little kid… fifteen…?"

"…Magical armor… worthwhile just for that…"

"Need to see how he uses that flail first, papa…"

"…Hell with flail… see him with knives…"

Axl's opponent was fairly apprehensive, and Axl grinned as they circled each other. It had taken him a while to master the ancient weapons at his disposal, but he'd gone to it with his customary verve and élan. Only two of the others, the raven-haired girl and the dark, deadly looking boy could really match him. He almost wished he could bring them home. They would both have been excellent Hunters.

The watchers were quiet as they watched the match, which was quick and brutal. There were whispers as the referee halted them, and Axl blushed in pleasure as he heard a few of them.

"…Older than he looks, has to be…"

"So fast and strong, papa…!"

"Hush…"

Axl stepped off the stage with a bounce in his step, then went to the change rooms to put on some of the concubine clothes he had been given. This wasn't too bad, so far. Of course, he wasn't a girl. Magira wasn't the only one looking angry enough to spit nails.

But then, he still had to endure the critique of his body. Axl blushed, putting on the clothes that had been picked out for him. There were tight fitting, beige slacks and a filmy green top that exposed most of his chest. He'd found out from Tasheen that it was the current fashion for all men, not just concubines. The jewels he'd been given to clip on his ears, though, were definitely concubine wear. Tiny emeralds set in gold, they matched his eyes almost perfectly. A matching emerald and gold choker went around his throat. The woven gold was worth a fortune, but it was the property of the slave arena and he wouldn't be able to keep it unless his new master bought it with him.

Last, Axl carefully put on a jaunty green beret. It wasn't actually meant to conceal his spiky hair… he'd be taking it off halfway through… but it would give the buyers an idea of how he could be made presentable for a formal setting. Just seeing his hair without it might turn them off, apparently. Axl grinned as he remembered how long the makeup artists had spent trying to tame his hair, before they had finally given up.

And speaking of makeup… Axl quickly and expertly applied it, as he had been taught. For men and women, makeup could range from subdued to bizarre. With this outfit, subdued was the right way. A little brush of rouge to give a sense of health, some golden dust for his eyelids, and he was finished.

Stepping onto the stage a second time was more nerve wracking, since he didn't have his flail to concentrate on, and he was sure he'd be getting some really negative comments on his age. No one could accuse him of being a great cow, but underage was a different matter.

Sure enough…

"He looks so young…"

"…Just right to keep the bastards off guard…"

"Sick… young enough to be your son…"

Axl blushed, trying to keep his face straight. He was a Reploid, so his age didn't really matter… but he wondered what they would think if they knew he was actually three years old, not fifteen.

But then, mentally, he sometimes felt like he was a hundred.

Finally, they were called up onto the stage for the final bidding. Axl took his place with some trepidation, but took comfort in his armor and weapons. They were all outfitted in their armor, armed with the weapons they would be taking along.

The bidding was fairly fierce. Axl watched the raven-haired girl go for almost two hundred golds, and winced. If he cost that much, it would take forever for him to buy his freedom.

Then his turn came, and Axl gasped at the opening bid. One hundred and fifty?

The rest was somewhere between flattering and appalling. His price finished at three hundred and thirty, which, from the smug expression on the auctioneer's face was probably a record. Axl looked numbly at the man who had bought him.

And felt a little happiness. His teaching had included teachers of all body types, even some who were outwardly repulsive, so he could learn to function despite what his owner might look like. Being a concubine was not for the squeamish, and Axl had found, to his surprise, that he was pretty flexible in his requirements. The man that had bought him, though, was tall and stately, with features that reminded Axl of a hawk, including a tremendous beak of a nose. In fact, he reminded Axl of Red. Axl felt a sudden wave of homesickness, but that was an old longing for his days with Red Alert.

In any case, making love to this man would not be repulsive in the least. Axl stood still as the enchanter attached to the auction house came up, holding a dull grey rod. He tapped the band on Axl's throat, muttering a strange word, then pointed the rod at his new owner. Axl felt the band turn cold, hot, then lapse into its usual state of body-warmed metal.

When a high-ranking slave was sold, especially of the bodyguard type, the collar was changed. Axl knew that he still had to obey his owner, but… he could selectively disobey. The collar was activated on intent, and the new, loosened version would not harm him as long as he acted in what he was certain was his owners best interest. That was necessary, since a bodyguard might have to overrule an owner who didn't know what was best. Like shoving him down and using their own body as a shield, if necessary, and ignoring any protests about it.

"I'm Ryoshu Naburrez." The man said, and Axl tilted his head. After all the time here, among slaves from almost everywhere, he'd come to recognize the various flavors of names. This one sounded like he had been born in the Southern sea, which explained the pale skin and white hair. Axl had gotten a few looks at maps, and the continents were recognizable, but in different positions. "You may call me Ryo. I'm a merchant, by the way. Come." He gestured imperiously at Axl, and Axl obediently fell in behind. He was a bit more relieved that his new owner was a merchant. Nobles might have the money to throw away by ruining a very expensive slave, but merchants typically valued their property.

He was even more relieved when several other bodyguards fell in around them, and a beautiful girl in a glorious but revealing dress. Axl eyed her covertly as they walked slowly through the packed streets. Her skin was a chocolate brown, and her hair was pitch black, cut into a flattering but slightly bizarre style. Her gown was a brilliant red, embroidered elegantly with gold and seed pearls. A scarf of embroidered silk hid the slave collar at her throat, but Axl spotted the cuffs on her arms. But was she a concubine, or a concubine/warrior like himself?

She resolved the question when she turned to look at him with a friendly smile, her white teeth flashing against her dark face. "So, you are Axl? I'm Quosha, a warrior like yourself… I think we'll get to know each other quite well." She grinned, and Axl blushed as Ryo chuckled. Axl quickly decided he liked Quosha. Her face was round, snub-nosed, and very appealing in a friendly way. Her eyes were brown, and warm. Axl thought she probably had an excellent sense of humor.

Axl was interested in the bazaar, looking as much as he could at the goods on sale. Some were really exotic and lovely, like tiny, intricate carvings made out of what looked like elephant ivory. If he got a chance, perhaps he would buy one to take home. Axl smiled sadly, thinking about that. Getting home could take years…

Ryo's house, when they reached it, proved to be a lovely mansion. It was exceedingly ostentatious, in a foreign style, and Axl loved it. The gate they entered was wrought iron, and the paving of the courtyard was made of multi-colored, octagonal stones closely fitted together. Gardens filled each of the four corners with glorious color, and they had been planted with more enthusiasm than art. The colors were riotous, and not in good taste, but very welcoming. A polished marble fountain filled the center of the courtyard, and in the center was a statue of a beautiful young girl endlessly pouring water from an ewer.

"This is great!" Axl exclaimed, making Quosha grin. Ryo looked briefly surprised, then pleased.

"Thank you. Most people in this wretched land don't appreciate the Southern island style, especially the fountain." One of Ryo's guards opened the front door for him, and he nodded politely to the man. Axl's hopes went up a bit more. Ryo was polite to his servants, and that was something.

"That's because it wastes so much water, love," Quosha said with a smile, resting her hand on Ryo's arm. Axl tilted his head slightly, wondering. She seemed quite fond of him.

Axl looked around curiously at the inside of the mansion. It was a beautiful place, full of interesting furnishings. The floor was polished marble, and there was a staircase leading upstairs, with a gilded banister. There were little golden cherubs at the ends of the staircase, greeting all the visitors with sweet smiles and outspread wings. The walls were wood, stained and varnished to bring out the natural grain.

"Oohh" Axl breathed, enchanted by the place all over again. He knew X would have detested it… his style was far more modern and clean edged… while Zero would have been indifferent, but Axl, when given a chance, preferred rococo carving and wild, extravagant styles. And this was only the entrance to the mansion, with no furniture, carpeting, and very little art. He wondered what the sitting rooms would look like.

"Quosha, beloved, could you show him around?" Ryo murmured softly to her. "I have to talk to Mirric about that silk shipment." Quosha nodded with a smile, as the bodyguards slowly departed to their customary places. A larger escort was needed outside the mansion than in, although one stayed with Ryo as he walked up the stairs. Axl was willing to bet that protectiveness wasn't paranoid… Ryo didn't seem the sort to imagine enemies. That thought was a little daunting. If Ryo had enemies deadly enough that he needed a bodyguard in his own home, then there was every chance in the world that Axl would be putting his training to use.

"Mama!" Axl blinked as a tiny bundle that seemed to consist mostly of arms and legs rocketed out of a room to the left of the stairs. It hit Quosha in the legs, and resolved into a little boy. Axl regarded him, rather surprised. His skin was dark, but not nearly as dark as Quosha's, and he was perhaps three years old, perhaps four. He looked up at Axl curiously. "Mama, who is this?"

"This is Axl. Your poppa bought him to take over my duties when we get married," Quosha explained, and Axl's eyes widened.

"You're getting married? Congratulations!" Quosha smiled in pleasure, looking extremely happy, and Axl could see why. For a female concubine, the absolute pinnacle of achievement was to marry her owner, who would free her during the ceremony. Add in the fact that Ryo was attractive, polite, and seemed genuinely affectionate to Quosha… affection she returned… this was the closest thing to a love match any concubine/warrior was likely to find.

"We are," Quosha said happily, tickling her son under the chin. "Mostly to legitimize Karus, so he can inherit." The boy squirmed away from her hand, and ran over to Axl to hug one of his legs with a grin. "Karus, come on… I'm going to show him the house."

"Okay Mama!" Karus ran ahead as Quosha took him through the house, showing him all the rooms. Axl was enchanted by everything. Most of the furniture was dark oak, extravagantly carved with dragons, nereids and other mythical creatures. The cushions on them were red velvet, and very plush. There were works of art all through the mansion, most of them reflecting the same rococo style as the chairs. Axl admired a beautiful picture of a seaside town, done in colors far more vibrant than life. Then he examined a small bronze sculpture on a table… it was of a beautiful woman, sleeping and half covered with filmy blankets. A lot of the sculptures featured women.

"You like all the girls?" Quosha said with a laugh in her voice. Axl blushed, but nodded. "There are a few handsome boys, too. Look at this one." Axl blinked at the statue she was pointing out… it was on a wall holder, and he hadn't really noticed it. "It's of the god Tormquaa and one of his cupbearers." Axl blushed, as he understood the reference. The god was very handsome and almost nude, while his attendant was much younger, handsome, and also nearly nude. It looked like the cupbearer would be holding something else soon, and they were both quite pleased with the situation. "You should see one of his reception rooms. Half of our book of positions is portrayed on the ceiling."

"Really? Erm… why?" Axl asked. He couldn't imagine wanting to receive someone in a room decorated with all manner of sexual positions.

"To keep some of his enemies off guard," Quosha said with a grin. "The poor stick in the muds can't keep their minds on business in that room. Too fascinated with what the nymphs are doing to the satyrs, or what the God of War is doing to the God of Love." Quosha looked at the figure of the woman on the table. "To be honest, I prefer these things… far more restrained." Axl nodded, a little relieved. He liked the statues in the house as well… most were decently covered, if intriguing, and seemed to radiate happiness and tranquility. The one on the table was extremely peaceful looking.

The rest of the tour was very pleasant. Axl found out where the kitchen was, and where he would take his meals when Ryo didn't request his presence. He got to see the receiving room, and take in what War and Lust were up to on the wall. It really was worth a second look. Soon, he was shown to his room… a suite right beside Ryo's and Quosha's, to make summoning him easy. Axl put his few possessions away, and sat down on the bed with a sigh. It had been a very tiring day. Tomorrow, he would begin his duties as a concubine and bodyguard.


	4. Chapter 4

A month later…

Axl yawned, stretching and luxuriating in the feeling of soft, silky blankets. A soft, mumbled sound of protest made him smile and relax back into the bed. Quosha was warm behind him, her arm across his chest and her face resting on his back. Axl casually looked over his shoulder, and smiled again. Quosha was cuddled up to him, while Ryo was cuddled up to her. It was really very sweet.

Axl finally sighed and pulled away, though, lightly poking Quosha in the ribs. She mumbled a complaint, but finally opened her eyes, blinking in the soft morning light.

"You wanted to get up early to prepare for the wedding?" Axl whispered softly into her ear. Ryo worked very hard, most of the time, and needed his rest. Being a merchant lord was definitely not a job for slackers. Quosha blinked, then nodded, eeling away from Ryo so smoothly he hardly noticed she was gone.

"Right. Thank you, Axl." She whispered back, changing into a suitable gown. Axl helped her do up the bone and cord toggles on the back. This place didn't have formal wedding gowns the way Axl was used to them, but the clothing expected of a wife was very different than that expected of a concubine. The deep blue gown she was wearing now clung to her curves but was very modestly cut. Tiny beads of gold and lapis glittered in the folds of the skirt, and a matching necklace twisted around Quosha's neck. Her only makeup was gold dust on her eyelids, to match the gold in her dress. "How do I look?"

"Lovely. You'll knock everyone's socks off." Axl said teasingly, and Quosha grinned. Axl had used the expression before, and been forced to explain the concept of socks. Here, everyone wore sandals, and socks seemed almost unknown.

"Thank you. Let's go see that everything else is in order." Axl followed willingly as Quosha slipped out. After a little while in the mansion, Axl had realized that Quosha held nearly as much authority among the staff as Ryo. The chamberlain was old and feeble, but Ryo hadn't wanted to let the man go, so Quosha had taken over much of his duties. When they weren't watching over Ryo, Axl served her as a helper.

While Ryo was in his bedroom, in the mansion, there was no real threat to him. A bodyguard watched the doorway into the rest of the mansion, and the balcony to his room was sealed by potent enchantments. Axl had winced when he'd found out why. Someone had sent a trained mini-dragon through the balcony once, killing an earlier courtesan and wounding Quosha.

"Quosha, why does Ryo have so many enemies?" Axl suddenly asked. Quosha looked back at him, surprised, then shrugged.

"Because he's very smart and usually gets the better of people in bargaining. There are small-minded idiots everywhere who take badly to that. And others who are just cold blooded enough to take out a business rival." She grimaced. "The worst attempts aren't personal, not that it helps."

"Oh. So… this is a common thing?" Axl asked tentatively, and Quosha frowned.

"Common enough. Why else do you think so many people would want expensive slaves like us?" Axl blinked, falling silent. He hadn't really thought about it, but there were over ten warrior/concubines in his class, all of whom had fetched very good prices. And in six months, there would be another class of about the same size… the demand had to be pretty high to support that kind of output. And Axl had already seen some action himself, although it had been minor… Axl considered that as he helped set up a very intricate centerpiece on the main table. It was a sculpture of flowers, meant to represent fertility. Axl couldn't help but grin at that. It wasn't as though Quosha and Ryo needed the help!

The wedding was going to be a spectacle. A hundred people had been invited, which was quite a lot in this culture. The cooks had been hard at work all yesterday and were still going at it today. Axl hissed as he spotted a server carrying out a massive dessert, a pastry dragon with red candy scales. It was very well done, lifelike… and it was about to slide off the plate.

"Good god, careful!" He ducked in to catch the pastry before it could complete the death slide. Fortunately, the scales were quite hard and he was able to slide it back onto the plate without marring it. "Here, let me carry that." He took it easily from the struggling server, who smiled gratefully.

"That goes right over here," Quosha directed him towards the dessert table with a smile. "Thank you, Axl… my word, the cooks must have spent ages on that! It even has wings." She admired the sculpture for a moment. "Ryo will love it."

"I bet he will," Axl agreed with a grin. Wedding cakes weren't customary here, but a massive feast with a huge dessert table was. The servants would bring out each course individually, but the desserts were largely visual and would be out where the guests could gawk at them. So too were the huge bread sculptures on each table… mostly fertility symbols again. Fortunately, they were mostly supposed to be strong, young forest animals, nothing as crude as an outright phallic symbol. Although… "With all these fertility symbols, I'm surprised there aren't any phallic ones." He was sure that would amuse Quosha, and he was right… she laughed.

"Oh, Axl, but they have to be cut up! What a horror that would be to the male guests!" Axl winced at the image, then laughed with her. She definitely had a point.

Soon, everything was ready, and Axl glanced around approvingly. This had all the makings of a really fine ceremony and party. Although Axl wouldn't much be able to enjoy the ceremony part of it. His duty was to stand behind Ryo, as what his world would have termed the best man. Only his job would be to keep an eye on anyone coming anywhere near the happy couple. Ryo was of the opinion that none of his cold-blooded business rivals would be crass enough to stage an attack at his wedding. That left the idiots with personal grievances, some of whom might hate him enough to try it. But the security was quite high… things might be uneventful.

As it turned out, that was only partially true. The ceremony went wonderfully, with Ryo and Quosha ceremonially bedecked with flowered wedding wreaths. At the feast, though, a few things went wrong. Ryo's family from the Southern Islands had been invited, and it was painfully obvious that Ryo had worked up from some humble roots. Axl winced in sympathetic pain as one woman got so drunk, she slipped under the table. They also fumbled the intricate cutlery required of formal dining here, but that at least was forgivable since they were from so far away. The drunkenness was unacceptable in any culture, though.

Ryo and Quosha were too happy to care about such minor mishaps, though. Axl smiled as he watched them… he was sitting at the same table, quite close, but might as well have been on another planet for all they noticed him. At least, until…

"Mama! Papa!" The roving bundle of arms and legs that Ryo and Quosha called a son almost careened into the table. Axl jumped to his feet and just barely managed to catch him, getting kicked in the shin for his troubles. A puffing, middle-aged nurse waddled up behind, her face red with embarrassment as the newly wed couple turned to look, startled.

"I'm sorry master, mistress, he just got away from me," she apologized profusely, but Ryo waved it away as Quosha took Karus from Axl with a laugh. Axl rubbed his leg, expression injured.

"Are you being a pest, Karus?" Quosha said playfully, then shook her head. "It's past your bedtime, sweety. Why don't you let Samina put you to sleep?" Karus scowled.

"But I want to stay at the party!" he protested. "You wouldn't let me come!"

"That's because it's a party for adults, sweety." Quosha said serenely. "But I'll tell you what. If you're a good boy, Axl will take you out shopping tomorrow. How about that?" Axl made a small glrking noise in the back of his throat, eyes widening. He'd already been on one shopping trip with Karus, and had ended up more worn out than he'd felt after dealing with a Maverick attack. Quosha saw the look on his face, and gave him an impish smile. Ryo was smiling, too, and Axl realized he was doomed. Karus considered it for a moment.

"Will I be able to get candy?" He said wistfully, and Axl winced. The last thing he wanted to give Karus was more sugar.

"Sure, sweety." Quosha patted him on the head, then handed him off to his nurse. "But only if you're a good boy and go right to bed." Karus nodded enthusiastically, letting his nurse take him off.

"Just throw me to the wolves, Quosha." Axl whined. Quosha gave him a brilliant smile.

"Don't think of it as a chore, Axl, think of it as an opportunity!" she said playfully. "I'm sure you can spend a few golds on yourself, as well." She glanced at Ryo, who nodded.

"Spend ten golds on yourself," Ryo said expansively, and Axl blinked. That was enough to get himself some very nice things, and very generous. It did make tomorrows trip a lot more appealing.

The rest of the feast passed uneventfully, and the tables were cleared away for dancing. Axl was intrigued by the music… it sounded vaguely Arabian, but there were hints of other cultures and even a few instruments he had never seen before. The final sound was unique, and not the same as the music he had danced to in his training. Still, it was easy to dance to, and he enjoyed his last duty of the evening… asking ladies to dance. Especially the wallflowers. Ryo had instructed him to try and draw the observers out.

The party finally ended when Ryo and Quosha departed, to a smattering of applause. The guests all departed, going to their mansions and rooms at the local inns. All that was left was the cleanup, and Axl pitched in, helping the cleaning staff return the room to its former, pristine condition.

Finally, exhausted and yawning, Axl stripped off his finery and tumbled into bed. It had been a very long day.

* * *

The next morning, Axl was quite rudely awoken at dawn by a small body landing on his chest.

"Axl, Axl! Wake up, it's morning!" Axl groaned, and tried to ignore him. The weight wasn't much… but then Karus started poking him. "Axl!"

"I'm up, I'm up…" Axl pushed himself up with another groan, sending Karus rolling off his chest with a giggle. "Ow. You're a terrible brat."

"Yes!" Karus said happily, as if it had been a compliment. He probably thought it was. Axl sighed, and pulled himself out of bed. Karus wasn't really a brat… but he was four, which was often pretty much the same thing.

"Have you eaten yet?" Axl asked as he pulled on his padded jumpsuit, then his armor. There was no reason for him to bother pretending he was anything but a bodyguard, when he was taking Karus out into the marketplace. Karus shook his head. "Okay then, first stop is the kitchen." He was very hungry, too.

Soon, he and Karus were eating breakfast in the cozy little private dining room Axl usually took his meals in. The cooks provided them with large bowls of hot muslix cereal, full of nuts and grains and sweetened with honey. There was also a small basket of oranges, little hothouse fruits grown in a greenhouse on the property. Axl ate one slowly, enjoying it. He'd come to appreciate the seasons more, in a land where greenhouses were rare, magical preservation was rarer and out of season fruit was insanely expensive. If it wasn't the season, there was no deciding you wanted an apple, unless you were willing to pay through the nose for it. Karus ate everything in front of him, making Axl grin. It was amazing, how much food one little boy could put away.

"Karus?" Axl suddenly said. Something important was on his mind… it had been since Ryo had said he could spend ten golds on himself. That was more than enough to pay for an hour of time with a good wizard, and magic was the only way he could think of to get home. Or at least explain how he had gotten here in the first place. "Would you like to go to the Street of Magic today?" Karus eyes went wide.

"Ohhh! Can we Axl? Can we, can we?" Karus bounced in his seat, making Axl grin. "There are street magicians who do illusions! It's really neat!"

"Well, we can watch them for a while, but I want to talk to a mage about something. It might be a little boring." He warned the boy. He didn't want Karus to pitch a fit when was talking to someone. Karus just shrugged, and ate another piece of orange.

"Nursie takes me lots of boring places. Are you done yet?" Axl gulped down the last of his cereal, and stood up.

"I am now. Let's go. And remember what your mama said." Quosha had instructed Karus quite firmly, and given Axl permission to spank him if he wandered off or acted up. Axl wasn't eager to do that, but he would, especially if Karus wandered off. No matter how closely he watched, that could happen, and it could be very dangerous. Karus squealed and ran ahead of him.

The day was just as exhausting as Axl had feared, but it was also a great deal of fun… and they went to the Street of Magic first, which made Axl's day.

After managing to tear Karus away from the street magicians, Axl found a very discreet little storefront. Some questioning of Quosha and Ryo had taught him that the mages, wizards and witches who put up great, glittering fronts were invariably frauds or lack-talents, trying to draw in people more impressed by shows than results. For really good magic, it was best to look for a subdued little shop with nothing but the name on a sign. That person might not be able to help… mages often specialized in one area… but they could inevitably refer you to someone else who could.

Axl wasn't lucky with his first stop, a witch who specialized in divinations. She was dubious about his problem, but directed him to a mage whose specialty was magical travel. That store was much larger, filled with various items that were clearly awaiting shipment. Several apprentices were industriously working on moving them out, using diagrams that had been deeply etched into the floor, most likely by their master.

"Hello… I was hoping I could speak to whoever is in charge?" Axl said to one as soon as he finished with a small box, which disappeared with a pop. The boy looked up, startled.

"He's in the back. Um, who should I tell him is here?"

"My master is Ryoshu Naburrez." Axl said with a smile, hoping the boy would assume he was here for Ryo. He did, and nodded, hurrying to the back. Axl kept a hand on Karus shoulder… he had a feeling something bad would happen if the boy disturbed any of the apprentices at work. Soon, an older man in a smock smeared with stone dust, paint and blood came out to see them.

"Hello, lad. Does Ryo have a package he wants sent out?" Axl blinked, then grinned at being called 'lad.'

"Actually, I'm here for myself." Axl admitted. "Although this is Ryo's son, Karus. I was wondering if I could ask you some questions?" The mage lifted an eyebrow, then shrugged.

"Time is money. I'll give you a consultation for two golds, as long as it takes no longer than an hour." Axl nodded, fishing the money out of his armor. "Alright then. Come with me. My name is Arthan, by the way." Axl nodded, and followed Arthan to what looked like a lunch room. There was a long, plain pine table, with a half dozen chairs. A kettle of tea sat in the middle of the table, and a plate of sugar biscuits. Axl blinked as Arthan poured them each cups… the tea was piping hot. He suspected the teapot was enchanted to keep it that way. Arthan pushed several cookies over to Karus, who began to eat happily. "So, what's the problem?" Axl took a deep breath, and began to explain.

Arthan listened intently, occasionally sipping his tea. When Axl was finished, he set down his cup, took a deep breath, and began to speak. "Well, lad, I have some good news and bad news. Which would you like to begin with?"

"Uh… the good news." Axl chewed his lip anxiously… he wanted some good news, some hope for the future. The mage smiled.

"Well, the good news is that I understand your problem and there is a way to solve it, which I can explain."

"Really? How did I get here? How can I go back?" Axl asked eagerly, and Arthan laughed, waving a hand.

"Calm down, calm down! Wait a moment, some props will help." Arthan left the table for a moment, and came back with several skeins of yarn, a pair of scissors and two coins, one silver and one gold. "Here…" He began cutting lengths of yarn, and laying them on the table. "This strand is your homeworld, the layer of reality you came from." He tapped a red strand of yarn, then lay the gold coin on it. "This coin is the precise instant in time that you left. Now _this_ is the layer of reality you are in now. Somehow, the explosion you described shot you through the layers." Axl nodded, understanding the concept. He had read plenty of science fiction books, and had heard about alternate dimensions. Arthan lay the silver coin on the blue strand that represented the current dimension. "This is the precise instant in time you are in now. Now…" He began cutting dozens of other pieces of yarn, and laying them between the blue and red strands. "These are the layers between your layer and this one. Would you say that this land is similar to yours, or very dissimilar?"

"Very dissimilar." Axl answered immediately, and Arthan nodded.

"Then there will be many layers between them. Now. I have one piece of news that will gladden your heart. You have probably left friends and family behind, yes?" Axl winced, and nodded. He had already been in this strange land for almost a year. X and Zero had to think he was dead. "Well, _time_ is part of the layers. If you do it right, you can return to the same time you left."

Axl's eyes widened, and his breath caught in his throat, as he absorbed the implications of that. He had pretty much resigned himself to the fact that he was going to be gone for a long, long time. He'd worried himself sick several times, hoping that X and Zero would be okay when he returned. Not to mention Cinnamon, Marino, Massimo… even Lifesaver… would they all be okay? But now… was he being told he could spend as much time as he wanted in this world, and it wouldn't _matter?_ Axl swallowed hard.

"H-How… you mean… I can travel through _time_?" Axl squeaked, but the mage frowned and shook his head.

"Not precisely. You must be very, very careful with this, because the universe will NOT allow a paradox. Look. Let us say you go from here," he tapped the silver coin. "To here." He tapped the brown yarn right beside it… then snipped it off. "You have come into the timeline at this point. You cannot go farther back in this dimension ever again, because that would alter your own history and create a paradox. You understand?"

"Yes…" Axl said slowly. Arthan moved to the next string… and snipped it off as well. He kept snipping them, until he finally reached the red string with its golden coin. He tapped the coin.

"This is the point you are aiming for. You cannot come into your own timeline earlier… that would be a paradox. However, if you misaim your final portal…" Arthan said in an ominous tone… and snipped the red thread, far down from the gold coin. "And throw yourself into the future of your layer, that is where you will stay. Forever. The last portal _must_ be done perfectly. But if it is…" He tapped the gold coin again. "You can return here."

"Then I'll just make sure it's done right." Axl said cheerfully. "So what's the bad news?" Arthan rubbed his chin, then smiled at Axl ruefully.

"Ah, well, that's the level of skill involved in this." He gestured to the yarn. "Playing with yarn is easy, but actually doing it… well, let's just say that doing this would be as far beyond me as my work would be beyond the rawest apprentice. What you need is an adept, a great magus of immense power."

"And they don't work cheap?" Axl hazarded at the man's grim expression. He shook his head.

"They don't work for money. A magus great enough to do this is already rich beyond your wildest dreams. I can think of nothing at all you could offer such a one."

"Erm…" Axl swallowed nervously. He didn't want to barter his body, but… "I'm trained as a concubine. I don't suppose that would…?"

"No." He said definitely, leaving Axl disappointed, but relieved. "An adept could buy a hundred concubines. Or summon up something, or make a golem. You must understand, what you are asking for is dangerous." Arthan tilted his head, then made a small motion towards Axl's armor. "I assume that comes from your land. Was it a peaceful place?"

"Uh… no. Not at all." Axl said, remembering all the death and destruction of the Maverick wars. Arthan nodded, then picked up a brown piece of yarn, smoothing it between his fingers.

"My master couldn't travel between the layers, but his master could. He told me that she once said that no matter how many horrors you have witnessed, how jaded you think you have become, the universe will always be able to find some new grotesquery to appall you with." He shook his head, replacing the piece of yarn. "The point is, no one will do this for you. The only option I see is for you to learn to do it yourself." Axl blinked.

"I could do that?"

"If you're willing to serve an apprenticeship, yes." Arthan frowned, then stood, going to a nearby shelf. "I think I have it here… ah, here it is." He pulled out a handwritten journal, and leafed through it. "My old master's diary… hm." He pulled out a scrap of parchment, and wrote down a name of a person, then the name of a town. "That's the name of my master's master, and the town she lived closest to. If she still lives there, the town's folk will be able to direct you to her." Axl looked at it dubiously.

"Your master's master? Will she still be alive?" She would have to be quite old. Arthan grinned.

"A magus of her power? Oh yes. There are ways, lad, to become immortal. She had just reached that level when she began teaching my master. And she can definitely travel through the layers. Not all adepts can do that… it's a fairly specialized skill." Arthan looked slightly pensive. "You should know… she's not an easy master to have. Not abusive, exactly, but… difficult."

"I can take it," Axl said confidently. "I was trained by Red, then Zero! I can take anything!" He folded the paper, carefully putting it into his armor, then stood. "Thank you for the help, I really appreciate it. C'mon Karus, it's time to go." He firmly took the little boy, and led him out.

It was a good start to the day.


End file.
